The Song Has Changed
by Kawind El Flako123
Summary: Years after the Music Meister's stint of almsot ruling the planet with song, he breaks free from Arkham a changed, smarter man. He only wants to live in peace and settle down as opposed to seeking revenge on Batman. But what if he finds out Batman's true identity! Does his plan change? (I've always found it unfair that the Music Meister was a great character with only 1 episode..)
1. Music Meister 1

As the red-haired master mind sat in his confined space, he rocked back and forth humming to the scratching of the rats in the walls. To the little ticks the roaches made scuttling across the less than pleasant carbon floors. To the drops of water from the leaky sink down the corridor. They were all a cocoction of his own symphony.

Marvelous, he thought, absolutely marvelous.

The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane, or rather, Arkham, forced this splendid man into solitary confinement along with a muzzle, the filthy animals. Speaking of "filthy animals", Gorilla Grod's confinement must not have been cleaned in days. The stench wreaked havoc among the many criminals imprisoned there, but they did not utter a word. They didn't dare to. It would ruin their train of thought on how to escape and destroy the man who put most of them there, the Dark Knight himself, Batman.

The name made him want to break into song, but the muzzle denied him the pleasure. The cage for his mouth was in place so he could not sway the guards to release him.

It'd been 3 years since the muzzle was first put in place, and the Music Meister felt the need that it was time to take it off.

He'd been owning his craft. He tapped his foot along to the tick-tick of the Clock King's face. He listened once again for the rats, and the roaches, and the water. Once he got the rhythm down, he activated his vocal cords and hummed once again, feeling the power surge from his deep in his gut to his upper torso to his throat and out it came from his body in a beautiful melody.

The rats halted.  
The roaches halted.  
The water halted.

Even Clock King's face stopped, much to his disapproval, "Was ist denn hier los!" Just as expected, he would freak out, but the German was an exquisite touch also. He tapped on his clock face repeatedly, signaling the Music Meister to sing higher, setting his next part of the plan in motion.

The hands on Clock King's helmet turned again. Faster, faster, faster, until smoke smoldered in the air and then fire burst onto the scene, "_Guards! Guards!" _Clock King cried out, looking for someone to relinquish his burning face. The King of Song had already done the math, the guards would arrive in 3, 2, 1... He heard the pitter patter of feet running past his cell, "Clock King! What did you do!?" He wouldn't offer an answer, "_ Help!_ Help me! _**Get it off!**_"

"Unlock his door!" Music Meister heard the sweet sound of keys jingling as the guard holding the keys fumbled to find the correct one, then he heard the most beautiful sound: the door unlocking. He hummed his loudest now, and the roaches and rats swarmed the pathway, eating them alive. The inmates were all going crazy now. Somehow, the sound of three grown men screaming for their lives can put a fire under anyones bum. The guards fell silent, but Clock King still shrieked for his life.

Our red-haired genius used the water down the corridor to douse the fire, and Clock King also fell silent. Music Meister's minions, the rats and roaches, took the keys. He heard them traveling through the walls and then eventually they made it into his cell. He didn't have much time before a whole slew of guards rushed in to find the source of the blood curdling screams that were made earlier. There had to have been a button somewhere to release all of the inmates from their hellholes. He shifted through key after key until he reach a key that was a different color than the rest. It seemed so different and on it, he saw the logo of Wayne Enterprises. They didn't make keys, did they?

Unless...

He fiddled around with it until he noticed the very tip of the key folded over to reveal a very miniscule button. He quickly pressed it and his door popped open just as simply as a kernel of popcorn would. The silence that insued was only expected. The "criminally insane" did not rampage through the corridor like the typical stereotype would suggest, these men and women were genuises. Mad geniuses. They didn't need to rampage and mindlessly destroy things.

As they all shuffled out of their cells, Music Meister found a key labeled muzzle and unlocked his mouth's cage. He didn't speak. Not there. But he did walk out of his confinement just in time for the other guards to break the loud silence of the room, "**_SOUND THE ALARMS! THE INMATES ARE OUT!"_**

The Music Meister smiled deviously as no sound was made by the manually controlled alarm system. His rats had been at works for weeks. Chewing through the very complex and tedious wires that were encompassing the perimeter of the Asylum.

The very scared, donut eating officers of the law shakily drew their guns.

The chattering of their teeth was music to The Meister of Song''s ears. They didn't want to die. And he was sure the minimal wage of watching these so called criminals day and night only to have them break out under your nose, and have Batman return them in a number of dies-was only enough to pay for their small apartment's rent and his/her child's lunch money as their only parent. Yes, the Music Meister knew these things, and he thought every waking minute about how he could use these things to his advantage, but he would leave these things alone for the larger, and more psychotic monsters that were downgraded to the level of "criminally insane".

* * *

For what it was worth, he regretted that he made the plan to escape when he did. He would have relished the battle that ensued. As he traveled through the dank tunnels that his rats had been digging ever since he arrived, he heard the screams of guards, begging for mercy. He heard the battle cries of the inmates, and the giddy laughs of revenge that they were taking on the guards that were so, well, "less than accomodating" for his kin. Although for one, they were hardly kin. And two, how could they not be? As far as he knew, they'd all plotted to rule the world or completely destroy it. And to them, these guards were puny, tiny, insignificant, even. And yet, during their months and years of confinement and clausterphobic-like spaces, they were treated the exact same way, they would treat them.

But did it change their views? No. They sought even more revenge, and returned to the streets and took it out on the world. But the Music Meister? No. Even with the huge goals he set for himself to rule the world. He was foiled once, and he would not be taken in a second time. He would use the education he actually gained in school and pick his battles. Which he would never have another one again.

* * *

He crawled for what seemed like hours. The sounds of the skirmish he created had faded away silently, and all he was left with, was the sounds of his own breathing echoing down the tunnel...That is, until, he was met with the beautiful sounds of Sir Henrik IV Opera House. Oh! The pure pleasure it made him feel to hear the thunderous boom of a baritone...the soft, angelic, but overpowering shrill of a soprano.

Reaching his destination, he shed a tear.

No, the asylum was not a traumatizing experience, he simply learned that if he was going to fight, he was going to win. And now that he was out among the public, he had a chance. A chance to start over.

He climbed out of the tunnel under a seat in the auditorium of the opera house. The very plush, blue foldable chairs were just perfect for the occasion; a jail break. Yes...the Music Meister could see the newspaper headline in the morning: "Massive Jail-Break from Arkham! Entire Solitary Confinement Unit Escapes! How Will Our Caped Crusader Respond?!" in big red letters with just a picture of the "bat-signal". Glorious, it would be.

Sitting in silence, he watched the chorus of human vocal excellence. It sent shivers down his spine. He had not heard such beautiful noises in years. Not since his own, or even Black Canary's, since before his incarceration into the same establishment that he had just escaped from. The ever so stunning lioness that had captured his heart with her voice was far out of his reach now. News spead inside the prison that Green Arrow and Ms. Canary were engaged. Oh! How that made his heart sink deeper than any ship Black Manta could muster.

But he would not seek revenge on them. No, he held no ill will of any kind, and as the beautiful Gregorian chant came to a close, the Music Meister promptly stood and exited.

He was free.


	2. Bruce Wayne 1

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne, for your contributions to the Humane Society of Gotham. Without you, "The old man choked up, "We wouldn't have been able to provide homes for many of the orphaned children that our orphanages house..." He dabbed a tissue under his eyes, leaving Bruce Wayne to stand there awkwardly, waiting for his 8th or 9th key to the city.

He no longer wanted to just stand there and smile as he waited. So he analyzed the man before him: white-collar, pitch-black blazer. Clearly a man who knew money and how to use it. His tissues were customized with dollar signs. OCD more than likely. The fabrication of the tissues appeared to be some sort of silk that was biodegradable. He was a man who believed in saving the earth's resources, but he seemed to have an infatuation with money. This money was very conflicted, as Bruce could see from his chewed fingernails. Bags under the man's eyes indicated one of two things, he either didn't get enough sleep, or he was a very prone liar. He saw no triggers that indicated he was a liar in many of their conversations, so he was a non-sleeper. Insomniac? Hardly, but a possibility. Countless times has he called Bruce 'Charles' or 'Whitley' who just-so-happened to be the old man's imaginary friends.

"Such a shame..." the audience caught him thinking aloud, and they fell silent, leaving him to scramble for his wording, "Such a shame that there are still kids without homes! I hope we will further our efforts in the future to put an end to this tragedy..." He cleared his throat and the audience resounded with a wave of claps.

The man choked up again and wiped away tears, holding the key, "I...J-James Kennedy of the Gotham Human Society...present you with this key to the city." He held out a hold-plated key big enough to break down a couple of hardwood doors but was as light as a feather.

Bruce shook his hand and accepted the key. He put an arm around his old friend as they held the key together and posed for pictures.

* * *

The billionaire drove home in his 2014 BMW M1. The pur of the engine very nearly rocked him to sleep, and then the autopilot would have turned on and driven him home. Well, it drove him home _sometimes. _

As he pulled into his rather winding driveway, he noticed the guards were nowhere to be seen. He stepped out of his car, and suddenly realized that it was a Wednesday, "How stupid of me..." They were off on Wednesdays, but he felt the need to call them in for overtime. Something was off, and it just might have been the perimeters security system. He needed to get inside, _quickly._

He sighed...realizing it was already too late.

"Heyooo, Brucie!" To save face, Bruce Wayne took his time to fix his suit and turn around to become face to face with...

Alfred.

He was drunk.

"Alfred...I think you've had more than your fair share of happy juice, "He clapped his friend on the back and pushed him forward, "I think it's time you go to bed. Here, I'll take that off your hands..." Bruce grabbed the half-full bottle of rum and opened his front door. Alfred only got like this when he was depressed. And he was usually depressed when he cleaned Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Wayne's room. He insisted on keeping it clean, even in their death. He owed them, and every time Bruce asked why, he'd never get a straight answer.

_Damn..._he thought. How had he not realized?

A mysterious tap on his shoulder was met with a full five knuckles to the nostril. Bruce pushed his assailant to the ground and delivered a swift kick to the face, knocking him-or even her-to the pavement head-first...

It was the UPS man. Master Wayne was going to have to write a serious apology letter in the morning, and more than likely have to pay for a trip to Cabo or even Tokyo. The life of a billionaire with a split personality that is a butt-kicking shadow at night was indeed complicated, "Mr. Wayne!?"

He picked up the man by his shoulders to drag him inside, "What is it Alfred? Did you forget where your thumb is?...It certainly would not be the first time..." He was halfway to his door when he turned around to check on his rather delusional friend to see him trembling at a knife's edge, "Hey, Bruce! Longtime, no see, old pal!"

The man's face was covered in bandages, but that was already more than enough to provide the clue about who it was, "Hush...! How'd you get out of Arkham?!"

"Oh, so you actually remembered my name? I guess being childhood best buddies wasn't all for nothing. " He pouted and flirted with Alfred's neck, using the knife, " Anyway, things happened. But do I care? I got out. A couple guys are dead, but not my problem."

Bruce cautiously and slowly slid a Batarang from his waist, "Why are you even here? This is not the best place to go to when you just broke out of prison. The feds will be here any minute."

"With wits like mine, and a whole gang of fresh out of the pin criminal masterminds under my thumb, it's amazing what a man can do with so much power..." He paced around, dragging Alfred behind him as the shadows surrounding Wayne Manor shifted much to Bruce Wayne's disadvantage, "Cuff him."

A presence shifted behind him, and he was immediately on the defensive until said presence tapped his shoulder in a 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' pattern. Code that someone was working undercover, but who?

He smelled burlap. But it smelled underused. But also new; like someone bought a white t-shirt and was told they were allergic to white. Horrible analogy, but all the more true. The smell of aftershave had wafted to Wayne's nose; Old Spice. A lot of it. He must have left in a hurry. They must have responded to the Arkham escapees, and there were only a few heroes that Batman knew that had alarms like that. Combined with all of the other factors, it did not take a genius such as the World's Greatest Detective to uncover who this man was.

Shortly after, he felt a warm hand on the hand he was going to use against Hush, "You'll need a lot more than this, Bats..." And slowly pushed the Batarang back in his pocket. The cold, warmth of the cuffs sent goosebumps up his arm, which was an unfamiliar feeling because Bruce Wayne or even Batman, never was introduced to hand cuffs and now he knew, "I'm getting you out of this pickle." The cuffs were not very strict on his wrists, allowing for easy hand rotations, enough room to break them at any time, "Alfred first."  
"Still choosing the common civilian over yourself at any time...? Just like you." He laughed and pushed him into Hush, whom caught him by his collar and pimp slapped him across his face, dropping Alfred to the ground who didn't move. Bruce assumed he passed out a while ago from the alcohol.

"5 years. You must not realize how many episodes of NCIS a man can miss in 5 YEARS. Hey, but maybe we can binge watch it for a couple of weeks. Ya know? Like good ole' pals!? My place, ya know. In hell...that is!" He pulled a gun from his back pocket with his trigger finger ready and the barrel of the bullet facing the side of the billionaire's head, only for an arrow to take it out, displeasing Hush, "Who's the wise guy!?" A green figurehead appeared on top of a stone gargoyle overlooking the manor.

"You can bet your ass that it's Green Arrow!" The figure jumped down and shot a boxing glove arrow at the head of the assailant, knocking him out.

"You're such a show-off." Bruce scoffed at his best friend, "It's been years and then you just decide to drop in!" He cracked his knuckles as the criminals all surrounded the crime fighting duo.

"Hey! Ungrateful much? I could've let you get manhandled by these guys, you know!" He notched an arrow to his eternally green bow and smirked, "It's not like I've gotten a life since the last time we saw each other...oh, wait..."  
"I would've handled these guys myself!" He slid his brass knuckles on his hands, and threw his blazer off to the side, "Oh, spare me the sob story!"  
"You're just mad that I saved you again."  
"Again? Since when?"

He aimed his arrow down the first man he saw, "Since always."

* * *

**A.N.** Excuse my rudeness for not doing an Author's Note on the first chapter. It completely slipped my mind.

I've been on a tangent about Batman IRL, and besides Heath Ledger's Joker, the Music Meister is my all-time favorite evil villian introduced in any Batman-verse. Sad to say, he only recieved one episode. So why should I not continue his story? I'm afraid there won't be that many showtunes in this take, however. I'm not a musically inclined person, so the songs you read here will more than likely be less than amateurish.

I hope you guys have enjoyed the first two chapters! This story will only feature two points of view, Batman(a.k.a Bruce Wayne) and the Music Meister. As I said, I hope you all have enjoyed the first two chapers, and I'm very well excited to continue this story into the future!

_So...  
_Kawind OUT!


	3. Music Meister 2

As the Music Meister made off with Black Canary in a burlap bag, he realized he was not a very good liar, even to himself.

She weighed only 150 pounds, but she still struggled against the confines of her theoretical cage as if she weighed 2x that. He had actually knocked her out, but after a few run-ins with Gotham's police force, she was awoken. They shouldn't have been after him, however. He planted the idea in all of his inmate allies' heads the idea to go after Bruce Wayne, the richest, most famous man in all of Gotham. Of course, he knew that he was sending them on a suicide mission; no one could ever get the drop on Bruce Wayne without millions of barrels of police commissioned guns placed behind their head. Hush, a very..._very _impatient criminal was hell-bent on taking out Wayne. This, however, was no skin off of his back; he only wanted freedom.

He gained it, but there was only one snag in the road, and that was his unrequited love for one Black Canary.

He stuffed her in the trunk of his stolen Firebird and drove away from her and Green Arrow's joint neighborhood of Sunny Hills. The Music Meister had broken in just as she was changing into her nightgown, so he scraped up what little respect he had salvaged from Arkham and sat silently, unwilling to watch, and waited for her to be fully clothed, and pounced unexpectedly on the womanly beauty.

Sounds of her attempts to escape could be heard, but he merely wanted to drive into the deep forests of Gotham. There, his summer home was left standing after years of vacancy. His family had deserted Gotham after a small amount of time, leaving him with his much more humble, and much poorer auntie and uncle. He attempted to live the simple life, but as he explained in his first big time criminal exploit, his world was plagued with bullies and ruffians, and as he discovered his power of hypnotism by song, his well repressed rich kid habits re-emerged and ultimately led the way in his attempt to reign supreme over the Earth...

And after decades of aloneness, the home will be the settlement of the Maestro of Villainy once again.

It seemed as if he scorched the ground attempting to hurry to his home before dawn...a certain fantasy called his name: to watch the sunrise with the love of his life, Black Canary. As he passed row, after row, after row of trees and a long winding dirt road, the ball of gases stealthily rose higher and higher, and he realized he would not make it. No matter...maybe it was best they didn't do such things on their first date. He pulled into the driveway and watched as the manor rose higher into view. It was not as big as say, Wayne Manor, but it did just fine for a wealthy family of three.

The house stood exactly in the way of the sun in the morning light, which provided a beautiful view of the countryside from the attic's glass window. That is where Black Canary would stay to watch as the moon climaxed in the sky above, as the stars would twinkle in the sky yearning for the ones in her eyes to return to them.

Oh! How these thoughts made the Music Meister swoon with ecstasy! He gently cradled his love from the trunk as she had fall unconscious from the numerous bumps and jumps and turns and jerks. He would cook her breakfast. A german omelette with swiss cheese, goose eggs and a cheese sauce that could make even Batman smile with delight. His mouth watered again and his mind ran wild almost making him run into a stone column beside the door, but he regained his composure, side-stepped it, and walked right in. unknowingly, he had prepared this house to be occupied by himself and Ms. Canary from the moment he got out of Arkham. Strange enough, at that point in time, he still believed he harbored no ill will, and now, at this very moment he was carrying her limp body into the house to be tied up and spoon fed. How ironic.

He felt the urge to sing, and he let it loose...

"Oh...Ms. Canary...  
So very...  
Very gentle..." He made his way up the stairs to the attic as the stairs creaked to his pattern, "To see you again...  
Is like a dream...  
As I see your face,  
So soft with its beauty...  
I can't help but to reminisce...  
You are a hero...  
I am but a villain...  
But my love cannot sway..." He laid her down on a cot just big enough for her to sleep in and sat and marveled at her face, "So stay...my love...and never leave...just stay, my love...and be mine...Ms...Canary~..." He kissed her forehead and activated the straps to hold her to her bed. He gave her one last look of pure sympathy and vanished to the kitchen. He was quite famished after his night of rebirth and thus, a meal was in order.

* * *

He very slowly pranced up the stairs with a light foot and sat beside her bed, injecting an anesthetic into her mouth that should have disabled her vocal chords from reaching her highest frequency. This woman was Black Canary, a superwoman with a delightful voice when entertaining, but a destructive force of nature when in danger. If she was to do anything when she awoke, it would be to sonic blast the Music Meister and escape using her wits. As much as he hated having to capture her and forcing her into his care against her will, he couldn't let her escape either.

Oh! What had he done!? He dropped the syringe and forced himself into the corner in a quiet frenzy as he watched a slowly waking Black Canary shift her head. What had possessed him to do this?

"Oh, boy...oh, boy...oh, boy..." He paced back and forth trying to figure out a possibility that she wouldn't sick her superhero alliances on him, but all of them turned up negative.

And then he heard it.

"Music Meister...?" Her voice washed over him much like that of a songstress, but this was no ordinary songstress...Her Georgian dialect broke through her surprise and her kidnapper had suddenly forgotten what he panicked about. It all seemed miniscule compared to her radiance.

He turned around trying not to smile with glee as her face was stricken with amazement...and embarrassment, "Oh, what fun is this..." She scoffed and turn her head away, but he was not disappointed in the slightest.

"You're beauty has not changed one bit, my dear..." He reached in the stroke her cheek, but was met with her trying to bite off his finger. He quickly pulled away and wagged his finger in front of her face, "Don't bite the hand that feeds you, Ms. Canary, " He held the omelette he fixed and picked off a piece with a fork, "Here comes the train~" He pushed it into her mouth only for her to spit it at his face.

"Then I'll just spit the food at his face then, no?" She smiled dubiously, still very resilient and feisty. He wiped the food from his face and turned on the tv as he kicked back in his own chair to finish the breakfast, "You broke out of Arkham didn't you, hun? Capturing me won't be the safest thing you could do even without being in your situation..."

He wiped his mouth clean with a napkin and sat back, "I suppose, but you see, I'm not the only other villain from that prison to escape. I _orchestrated_ the entire debacle. From the morning rat scratches to the very last blood curdling scream I heard as I crawled to freedom. So you see, my dear, I have no need to worry. Your "hubby", Green Arrow, will not be here. He is very occupied with Batman, as I predicted, to be cleaning up the criminal, disease ridden streets of Gotham. It is just us and whatever symphony we decide to work together to create."

"You're insane...!" Black Canary pleaded.

The Music Meister jumped from his chair and tossed his plate to the wall, shattering it to pieces, "That's just it! That's why I escaped! The world I was living in...the underworld, you squeaky clean heroes called it. Endless...endless suffering. My voice was reduced to _nothing! _Quieted! Silenced! _For **three **years!_ All because of some stupid money!" He grabbed Canary's face and held it still, "**_THAT,_**Black Canary, is the real "insanity!" He released her face and flicked away a strand of hair that was covering his face. Oh how he hated that.

Once he was silent, he felt he heard a faint sound amongst Black Canary's body. Her face remained unchanged and skeptimistic, but as he scanned her body, he saw that she was trying to use her fingernail to pick the lock on her wrist.

He let himself get worked up for nothing. It wasn't worth it; how could she of all people understand him?

"Forget it." He released her from her chains and threw her onto her feet, "You're free now."

He pointed down the stairs, "Get out."

His victim looked rather astonished, "Excuse me?"  
He rushed her against the wall and cornered her looking deep in her eyes with a very thin overlap of tears covering his eyelashes. He spoke in very low, but seething with rage tones, "I...said 'Get out."

Inside of his head, this seemed like the most ludicrous thing he could do, but he could no longer look at her. He could no longer look at himself. The Music Meister wanted to be left alone. He wanted solitude. Somewhere in his broken psyche, he wanted to go back to prison...

She stared into his eyes and shifted away from his body while his head remained fixed on the spot where her eyes had just been.

He could not bear to look as she stepped down the steps and further and further away from his grasp.

If this was what freedom felt like, Arkham was indeed a safe haven for criminals.

* * *

**A.N. **I'm sure most of you have already realized I'm taking a darker turn on this story, and I'm especially sorry for the horrible song. I'm still debating on whether or not to put this fanfiction in the same format as the episode; ya know, song, plot, song, plot. I'm not a song writer even though the songs are what made "Mayhem of the Music Meister" so profitable for the shows producers. We'll see as the story progresses. I may tweak a few details and add my own touch or two, if thats acceptable.

Anyway, thanks you guys for reading and I'll see you in the next chapter!

_So...  
_Kawind OUT!


End file.
